Wednesday, November 30, 2011

From NPR

Library Phantom Returns

Ten gifts. All accounted for. And that, it seems, is the end of our story. Somebody who chose and whose neighbors chose to never identify spent the spring, summer and fall expressing her thanks for the continuing existence of libraries, museums and books in Scotland, "a tiny gesture," she called it.

Tiny, yes, but also, in its way, very grand.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011


There is a protest movement occurring right now. On. My. Face. Three protesters (which might be better than calling them blemishes but I don't know) are now occupying the right side of my face. I've asked them nicely to leave but they have declined. I've tried blasting them with Clean & Clear but they only grow stronger. They are beginning to form their own government. I don't know what they want. I have yet to hear their demands. (More potato chips maybe?)

They know I can't touch them, as much as I would love to. I have to face the public and what would they think if they saw what I had done? I would rather stay inside and hide from any face-to-face encounters until these interlopers pick up and leave. Forever.

I could pierce the top of my right ear and the right corner of my mouth and dangle a chain between the two. That might disguise them or possibly draw attention away from them. I could wear a Phantom Of The Opera mask that would allow only one side of my face - the left side - to be exposed. Maybe a wild hairdo or dramatic eye makeup as distraction.

That is why, (boss / chairman / president ), I couldn't (come into work / attend the board meeting / present my report). I'm being occupied and the disruption to my normal (workflow / attendance / stellar reporting) is unavoidable. As much as I would like to change this situation, I know the damage they can do and I must wait it out.

Until then,
I sit on my hands.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Empty Again

I know I've said it before, the second cup of coffee isn't as good as the first. I don't know why this should be when I brew each cup individually. I use the same beans, the same grinder, the same water and espresso machine. Is it because my mouth is coated with the bittersweet delicious memory of the cup before that taints the taste of the cup to come? Is it because I've brushed my teeth in between? Tell me your secret, oh red coffee cup. I will obey in order to sip again another first cup of coffee.

Thank goodness, there's always the first latte of the day....

Friday, November 4, 2011

Accidental Prose

Never fear, I am here, to cheer or jeer as you cry in your beer. Leer, my dear, at treasures near. Hear the deer? Afraid before the spear as last year when you shed your tears for in arrears were your peers. Have you not ears? Queer. On your rear, you shift gears with mere amperes to appear shear. Steer clear of your soul’s auctioneer. Seek instead a mountaineer, and veer towards the atmosphere. Shed your inner puppeteer, drop your bandoleer. Be freer, dear, be freer.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011


I came to the office thinking it might inspire me to get some work done. Sadly, it's not working.